


All of Me

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: 1st Cas-iversary Celebration drabble request by @ire-art-blog – “I was thinking of a drabble it can be smutty or nah but a castiel x reader where the reader has tattoos or even kinda goth.” Did you read my mind? Cause I’ve had a wing tattoo idea fluttering about my skull (and inspiration pics cluttering my desktop) for weeks! It’s pure fluff.





	All of Me

Bending over the sink to spit minty toothpaste, you paused to observe the foamy green fluoride swirl about the marble basin and sink into oblivion. The agreeable calming color a stark contrast to the alarming red currents of dried blood leftover from a messy hunt you rinsed from your battered and bruised body in the shower only minutes ago. Washing the unpleasant thought away, you splashed a few handfuls of refreshingly cool water to your pale cheeks. Momentarily blinded by the beading of water upon your eyelashes, you groped along the counter for a towel, finding and pressing the soft white cotton to your face and eyes and inhaling deeply of the crisp clean scent of detergent.

“Hello Y/N,” Castiel’s husky voice resonated off the shiny tiled walls of the bathroom.

You should be used to his innocent intrusions by now, but his sudden appearances in these quiet, solitary, and otherwise mundane moments never failed to startle you. You jumped, the silken fabric of your robe slipping down one arm as you focused on the angel’s unflustered presence behind you reflected in the mirror. His enameled blue eyes were transfixed on the exposed intricately tattooed flesh of your shoulder. You clutched frantically at the collar of the robe, drawing it closed once again, a blush creeping to your cheeks.

You never intended for the angel to see this particular tattoo. It wasn’t that you were shy about showing off your art. In fact, before you began working and then living with the Winchesters and their heavenly ally, you flaunted it proudly. But this particular tattoo – expansive black inked angel wings emerging from your back, feathers spanning across your shoulders and winding across your upper arms - you were afraid of what the angel would think, afraid he would find it distasteful, offensive, a silly thing for a human to permanently etch onto their physically limited body. You were frightened of being rejected by the celestial being you hopelessly loved.

“Cas, what’s up?” You spun to confront him, shaking off the buzz of adrenaline his arrival and your nerves stirred.

“I wanted to see if you were okay.” He visibly struggled to focus on your questioning aspect, regard continuing to shift curiously to the flesh now hidden from his view. “Dean said the shifter you chased put up quite a fight.” He finally managed to settle his wandering gaze searchingly on your eyes. “You’re not injured, are you?”

“Nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix.” You smiled, shyly dropping your chin under his intense scrutiny, staring at your feet. “But thanks for checking in.”

“Of course.” He bowed his head, a small smile twitching his lips.

You stood in awkward silence, shuffling your weight anxiously between feet, waiting for the angel to leave, yet also not really wanting him to go anywhere.

“Y/N?” The hem of his trench coat came into view as he took a step closer to you.

“Hmm?” You looked up, swallowing the lump rising thickly in your throat, sensing what he was about to ask, knowing you couldn’t deny his request because in your heart of hearts you wanted him to see it, to see all of you, to finally be relieved of the burden you literally wore upon your shoulders.

“Your tattoo.” His eyes drifted again to the obstructive fabric of the robe. “May I see it?”

Nervously biting your lip, not meeting his gaze, you nodded. Turning toward the sink again, you inhaled deeply and held the breath. Loosening the belted tie of your robe, shrugging the draping garment off your shoulders, you revealed the tattoo. You apprehensively watched the angel’s reaction in the mirror, a look of wonder overtaking his expression.

He extended a hand - outstretched fingers hovering electrically over the center of your back, gravelly voice almost a whisper, “Y/N, these are lovely. Why do you hide them?”

“I-I-” you stuttered, overwhelmed by his compliment, uncertain of how to answer his question without revealing your true feelings for him.

His calloused fingertips descended to stroke your spine, gradually meandering out and up to trace the delicate sprawling black feathers.

You shivered involuntarily despite the warmth of his proximity, knees growing weak, goosebumps erupting on your skin in the wake of his tender touch. Your eyes snapped shut, and in the security of self-imposed darkness, you found the courage to speak, telling the angel what the tattoo meant to you, “My mother used to tell me I had a guardian angel watching over me, standing over my shoulder, keeping me safe. After I lost her, I got these wings to remind me I wasn’t alone. I-I don’t know why, but I always pictured my guardian angel with black wings.”

Cas chuckled lightly, fingers curling to encircle your upper arms where the tips of your finely drawn wings ended to steady your swaying frame. “Y/N, open your eyes.”

You slowly blinked, refocusing, jaw gaping, eyes gleaming wide in astonishment at the reflection of massive wings spread out behind the angel - black sheened feathers quivering as they bumped and curved to adjust to the constraints of the walls.

“Cas, they’re beautiful!” you exclaimed, so rapt with awe at the unexpected sight of the angel’s exquisite wings you nearly missed his affectionately beaming countenance.


End file.
